The blue stardust drifting in the wind vanished in an instant, as if it had never existed.

But the black top hat and woolen coat that fluttered down afterward proved that the tall man had just stood here, disappearing into thin air.

"Douglas…"

Einstein's mind was still filled with the black hand shadow on the moon. He walked forward step by step, to the spot where Douglas had just disappeared, and picked up the top hat that had fallen on the ground.

He touched the inside with the back of his hand and could still faintly feel the warmth that had not yet dissipated.

Einstein stood there blankly for a moment.

As a physicist, he couldn't understand how Douglas had disappeared at all.

But what he understood even less was—

Why did Douglas leave so resolutely?

Without even a goodbye.

Just waving and leaving, catching him off guard.

"Why?"

Einstein felt grief welling up again.

He couldn't understand.

Why did Douglas suddenly appear in his life, give him hope, give him strength, but in the end… why did he ruthlessly abandon him to face all this alone?

"Since Douglas's eyes are the same crystalline blue as mine, then he should be able to see the future like me, and also be immortal like me."

"Moreover, he can even disappear into the world out of thin air, while I can't. This means that Douglas's abilities are far above mine… It seems that his understanding of time and space and this strange power is much deeper than mine."

"But… even so… Douglas, why did you still have to leave me? We could have worked together to give this world a better, more perfect future."

He put the black top hat left by Douglas on his head.

Then.

He looked down at the white square gift box in his hand.

It was the last thing Douglas had left him, and he had told him to keep it safe.

Without opening it, Einstein already knew what was inside.

But.

Out of long-standing habit, he still pinched open the lid of the gift box and looked inside…

A silver watch.

It wasn't very high-end, even a little rough, and it wasn't a famous brand.

The second hand on the dial was ticking, telling of the passage of time and the irretrievability of past history.

Watch.

Out of respect for Douglas's privacy, Einstein did not take out the note to open it; however… it didn't make much difference, he had known what was written on the note for a long time.

It was a line of delicate English, which should have come from a lady's hand.

But Einstein didn't know who wrote it.

He woke up on the afternoon of November 5th, and could see any moment of the future after that, but could not know any period of history before that.

He gently closed the white gift box and sighed.

He still missed Douglas very much.

The word "goodbye" is a blessing and expectation for others, predicting that they will meet again in the future.

But for him and Douglas…

Goodbye.

Means.

Goodbye forever.

The moment Douglas said he was leaving, Einstein frantically searched for Douglas's traces in the space-time line in his mind.

Past, future, trajectory.

But.

He couldn't find anything.

He didn't know Douglas's past, and he couldn't see Douglas's future; the other party waved his sleeves, leaving him only a back view and a word of advice. From then on, he disappeared into time and space forever.

In the future that Einstein could see, there was no longer any sign of Douglas.

So…

He didn't believe that Douglas would come back to him.

"Douglas, did you lie to me?"

Einstein looked at the white square gift box in his hand:

"You, or the future I see… one of you is deceiving me."

"But, I still believe you, my good friend."

Einstein carefully put away the gift box and put it in his coat pocket.

Since Douglas had said that he would come to him one day to get the watch back, then he would just wait patiently.

Anyway, he was immortal, anyway, he had plenty of time, anyway, he had already told Douglas… that he would wait for him in the underground shelter on this farm.

"But, how long do you want me to wait?"

Einstein raised his head and looked at the round moon gradually climbing into the night sky:

"What kind of opportunity are you waiting for?"

He could see everything in the world, the future of every corner.

But he couldn't see through Douglas's thoughts at all.

Suddenly.

A young man's exclamation came from behind:

"Oh! God! Einstein! It's actually Mr. Einstein! I never thought I would meet you in this remote wilderness!"

Einstein turned his head.

He saw a young man with blond hair and blue eyes jump off his bicycle and run towards him quickly.

The young man was so excited that he didn't care at all that the bicycle had fallen to the ground. He rushed straight to Einstein and bowed respectfully to him:

"Mr. Einstein! It's an honor to meet you here! I… I feel so honored! I, I admire you very much! I grew up reading your stories, and I admire you very much!"

The young man was slender, with a prominent aquiline nose, and was so excited that he was a little incoherent:

"My name is Christopher Adams, and I'm here from England to study. I'm going to the pier to catch a ship… I really didn't expect to meet you here!"

Einstein shook his head:

"Okay, Adams, it's nice to meet you. I wish you a pleasant journey."

With that, he turned around and prepared to pick up the clothes that Douglas had dropped on the ground.

"Mr. Einstein."

Adams pinched his fingers and stood timidly behind Einstein:

"Um, meeting you here, and meeting you on my last night in the United States, I think it must be a gift from fate."

"Could I… ask you for a favor?"

Adams scratched his head and smiled embarrassedly:

"My wife was pregnant when I left England, and my child was born in March of this year. He's a very healthy little boy."

"Congratulations," Einstein said flatly.

"It's like this, Mr. Einstein."

Adams quickly walked around to Einstein and said eagerly:

"I've been looking forward to this child for a long time, but because the courses here in the United States are very busy, I haven't had time to go back to England to see him… So, it's embarrassing to say, but until now, my son is almost one year old, and he still doesn't have an official name."

"The whole family has been calling him 'Little Adams'. My family has been waiting for me to go back and give my son a real name."

"This is also what I have been expecting. I hope to give him a name after I see his appearance and smiling face with my own eyes."

"But… just as I have said many times, meeting you here today is an arrangement of fate! So, Mr. Einstein—"

"Could you please give my son a name?"

Adams clasped his hands together, his eyes full of admiration.

However…

Einstein shook his head wearily:

"I'm sorry, child, as you can see, I'm not in the mood right now."

"Giving a child a name is a big deal, it concerns the child's whole life. As a father, you should wait until you return to England and see your baby with your own eyes before making a decision."

Adams quickly grabbed Einstein's hand:

"Please, sir! Any name will do. I really hope that my son can take you as an example, take you as an idol, and become as great as you!"

"If he grows up… and knows that his name was given by you, he will definitely feel proud, and maybe he can really realize his life value under your guidance!"

…

This Adams was eloquent and elevated everything to a higher level.

It seemed that if he wasn't satisfied, he would have to pester him here for a long time.

"Okay."

Einstein reluctantly agreed.

He took out the pen he always kept in his coat pocket and looked at Adams:

"Do you have paper? I like to write on paper when I'm thinking."

Adams touched all over his body and spread his hands helplessly.

There was no way.

Einstein rummaged through his other pockets and found that there was indeed a folded piece of white paper.

He took it out.

It was the piece of scrap paper with the number [42] written on it.

Originally, he planned to show it to Douglas, and wanted to discuss with Douglas what 42 was…

He only calculated that the result of the cosmological constant was 42, but he didn't know why it was 42 or what 42 meant.

But he didn't expect.

Douglas left as soon as he said he would, without giving him a chance to discuss it at all.

Oh well, he would just write on this piece of paper.

Since Douglas had left, this piece of paper was meaningless.

Einstein didn't unfold the scrap paper. He wrote the surname Adams on the folded surface.

Then, he stopped writing and began to think.

What should he name the British little boy?

It should be grand, simple, or even domineering, with a bit of mystery and majesty.

He thought about it, and the more he thought about it, the more complicated it became, and the more he thought about it, the less he had any ideas. But at the same time, the unforgettable figure in his mind became clearer…

Douglas.

The mysterious man who disappeared in the moonlight, a passer-by who sowed hope in his life.

Almost unconsciously.

Einstein's right hand holding the pen slid and wrote Douglas's name on the left side of the white paper.

Next to him, the long-awaited young Adams opened his eyes wide and read the name on the paper:

"Douglas Adams!"

He laughed:

"Thank you, Mr. Einstein! What a great name! Douglas Adams… that's my son's name! Great!"

At this time.

Einstein came back to his senses from the thoughts of remembering his old friend, and found that he had actually written Douglas's name on it in a daze…

Seeing that the British young man was so happy, he didn't plan to explain anything, so he would just let it go.

"Here you are."

Einstein put away his pen and handed the folded white paper with the newborn's name written on it to Adams:

"I wish you a good trip, Mr. Adams, and I wish your unborn child good health and happiness."

After that.

He bent down to pick up the clothes that had fallen on the ground after Douglas disappeared, and entered the farm warehouse without looking back.

In the yard, the excited British young man exhaled white air, holding the scrap paper with the name given by Einstein in his hands, as if holding a golden and dazzling Bible:

"I'm so lucky! My son's name was actually given by Einstein! No one will believe it when I go back and tell them!"

"But what is this piece of paper… It's folded so many times, wouldn't there be any important information on it?"

Christopher Adams really admired Einstein very much.

He decided to open it and take a look. If it was really something important, he would still send it to Einstein.

Following the folds to open the white paper, Adams found that on the huge piece of paper, there was only a strange number written in the middle—

"42?"

He tilted his head.

He couldn't understand what it meant.

But… it didn't matter, this was just a piece of scrap paper after all, and it wasn't really valuable.

After folding the paper again and putting it in his pocket, the young Adams rode his bicycle to the pier, preparing to take an ocean liner and start his journey home:

"I'm really looking forward to it, my little baby."

Riding the bicycle, facing the night wind, Adams hummed a song and smiled happily:

"What kind of person will you become when you grow up?"

…

Ten days later.

England, Cambridge, a residence.

Bang!

The excited Adams pushed the door open and laughed:

"I'm back! Where's my son? Where's my son!"

The young mother on the sofa smiled:

"You still know how to come home! The child is almost one year old and hasn't seen his father yet. Little Adams is very smart and can crawl very fast now."

The young mother stood up, pulled her husband into the house, and pointed to the little baby rolling around on the bed:

"Look, I heard you were coming back, and I've been so excited since the morning."

"Oh! My baby, Dad finally met you!"

Adams was very excited. He gently picked up the little baby and spun around in place, and kissed him twice on the cheek. The baby in his arms instantly wailed and cried.

"Hey, don't you recognize Dad?"

Adams made a face:

"I'm Dad~"

The young mother smiled, took the baby and started coaxing him, while glaring at Adams:

"He's only 8 months old, how can he understand so much? Besides, it's the first time he's seen you, so he's like a stranger, and he'll definitely be scared. Really, you have to take your time to coax the child."

"By the way, have you thought about what to name your son? We've been calling him Little Adams for 8 months, and we can't keep calling him that, right?"

"Hehe~"

Adams smiled mysteriously and proudly:

"Of course I've thought about the name! It's a very nice, very domineering, very manly name—"

"Douglas Adams!"

"How is it? How is it? Isn't it great?"

The young mother looked at the crying baby in her arms and thought for a while:

"So-so, it's okay, the name is just average."

"Hey, how can it be average!"

Adams spread his hands:

"Do you know who gave this name? Einstein! The greatest physicist in the world, Albert Einstein!"

"Tch."

The young mother snorted softly:

"Stop it, you're just bragging. How can you meet Einstein? Are you worthy?"

"Really!"

Adams began to search in his pockets:

"I happened to pass by a farm in Brooklyn and found Einstein standing in the farm in a daze. I begged him for a long time before he agreed to give our child a name!"

"Huh? Why can't I find it? I remember putting it in this pocket…"

Saying that, the man opened the suitcase and rummaged:

"How can it be, why can't I find it? Einstein wrote our son's name, Douglas Adams, on a piece of white paper."

"Okay, okay, stop pretending." The young mother didn't believe her husband's nonsense at all.

"Hey! Why don't you believe me?"

Adams was a little anxious.

But he just couldn't find the piece of paper, and didn't know where it was lost during these days of travel.

He scratched his messy hair with a look of regret:

"Really, I guess I took it out to look at it often, and I don't know where it fell. Alas, it's really a pity, I wanted to keep it as a souvenir."

"But I really didn't lie! That piece of white paper was taken out of his own pocket by Einstein. I even opened it and looked at it. There was nothing on that piece of white paper. Apart from our son's name, there was only one number written on it—42."

The young mother blinked her eyes and raised her head:

"42? 42 what?"

"No, no, no."

Adams waved his hand:

"There's no 42 what, there's no unit, it's just a simple number—"

"42!"

Instantly.

The baby in her arms stopped crying and started giggling.

Adams and his wife were stunned.

They looked at the baby whose face suddenly changed:

"Could it be… he likes this name and number?"

With a try-it-and-see attitude, Adams whispered to the baby in his wife's arms:

"Douglas~42~"

The little baby's eyes narrowed into a line, and he giggled again.

"Look, look!"

Adams clapped excitedly:

"I said he liked this name! This is the name given by Einstein! Honey, let's give our son this name!"

The young mother looked at her giggling son and showed a loving smile:

"Although I don't believe those bragging words of yours, but… since our son likes it, let's call him that name."

"Douglas Adams."

The young mother whispered:

"Do you like the number 42?"

The baby in her arms seemed to be conditioned, and giggled and danced again, very happy.

"It seems that 42 is your lucky number."

The young mother smiled, put the no longer crying baby back on the bed, watching him crawl around:

"In the future, when Douglas cries, we'll just call 42 to coax him. He seems to have some magic power over this number."

"That's why I said! This is Einstein's blessing!"

Adams was still trying to convince his wife:

"Forget it, if you don't believe it, forget it. When Douglas grows up, I'll tell him about it myself! Let him know how legendary his name is!"

"And, the number 42, um… although I don't know what this number means, I'll leave it to Douglas to study when he grows up."

"If he becomes a scientist in the future, maybe he can be lucky enough to study the same topic with Einstein."

"If he's a mathematician in the future, maybe he can also study the secret behind this number. I think Einstein shouldn't have written this number for no reason, right?"

"Well, if he's not interested in science and science, and he likes literature…"

Adams frowned, rubbed his chin, and smiled:

"Then being a writer seems good too!"

"This way he can write 42 into the novel… giving this number a more wonderful meaning!"

(End of this chapter)

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